Screaming Out
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: An alarming call to Dean's cellphone has the boys dealing with Dean's old flame, Persephone. But its bittersweet with finding her battered and bruised and her little girl traumatized. **I hate summaries and it will change later; centered around graphic domestic violence**
1. Chapter 1

_**This story** has **been posted here before. But I had taken it down to post to AO3 because I plan on going far more graphic with the story. But I had a request to bring it back over here by several readers. I will keep this pretty PG but all smut and violence will practically be cut out of this version of the story.**_

 _ **I will continue to post on AO3 in case you want to read the more graphic version - deeper violence, explicit smut - but yeah, I will be posting to both of these. I would just post all of the chapters I deleted but I've edited the chapters I had.**_

* * *

An average Tuesday, not a case in sight, so Dean took advantage of this to do one thing: be utterly _annoying_.

Once the beer was gone and Dean was thoroughly buzzed, the archive lost its luster and he moved onto better things.

He spared a glance at the various beer bottles scattered in the maze of books spread out on the long table. Sam would bitch, he was worse than a woman when it came to such things, but then again Dean didn't have any room to talk. His room was spotless and he took great pride in this fact, but the archive wasn't his room so he just shrugged and left his jacket on the back of his chair, idly approaching the hallway that led to the bedrooms and the showers.

He stepped into his room, looking around for something interesting to do.

Things were just too boring for him, he never had a deep attention span and all of this was just too suffocating for him.

Sam had been tucked away in his room all day, pouring over work he supposed. Sam could entertain himself for hours and entertaining himself meant ignoring Dean, which further annoyed his older brother and he had to know that. Of course, Sam wasn't there to entertain Dean on their days off, but it would be fun if they could actually go out and _do something_. Anything. Dean would take a walk down the damn road if that's what it meant to kill the boredom; of course, he would never say anything to Sam, because that just wasn't him.

Dean pecked around his room, begging God for a coloring book at least. Something, _anything_ , to pass the time.

Like persistently bouncing a small, multi colored ball against the wall of his bedroom; the wall also happened to be the one separating his and Sam's room.

If he were being honest with himself, Dean had forgotten Sam was there half the time, whenever there were lulls in the cases and they were left to their own devices. He was so bored, he didn't even feel like standing up and going to pick up a chick for some _real_ fun times.

But, annoying his brother would just have to do.

" _Dean_ ," he heard Sam hiss through the walls and smirked, continuing to flick his wrist and bounce that damn ball. "Dammit, _stop_!"

"Nah," Dean drawled, the rubber ball smacking against his palm upon return.

He snickered when he heard Sam groan and flicked the ball again. Only this time, it decided to take an abrupt left as it bounced off of the wall and Dean was forced to retrieve it. He groaned and flopped his arms out to his sides, legs dangling as he glared at the ceiling; he rolled onto his side and sat there for a moment, staring at the ball as it lay near his desk. Like it was the balls fault for bouncing. . .okay. That was probably one of the dumbest thoughts he's ever had.

. . .okay, that's a lie.

He stood and trudged over to it, snatching the damn ball up and glaring at it like it had offended his ancestors. "With my luck," he mumbled, plopping down at the foot of his bed. "It did."

He jumped when he heard his phone start to go off and twisted to his right, seeing it buzzing on the nightstand. He flicked the ball away again and let it bounce on the floor, lying back on the bed and stretching to snatch up the phone. His brow furrowed at the strange number and he almost didn't answer it, but he never knew what the calls could be.

He hit **Accept** and held it to his ear, getting ready to say _What?_ before he tensed, eyes wide as he listened to the other line. " _Dean! Oh my God, Dean?!_ "

He hesitated, swallowing before he sat up. "Who the he-"

He heard something shatter and jumped to his feet, hearing the phone on the other end hit the ground and he heard a woman's shrill scream before it faded, shouting out a lot of curse words and the name Mike; he heard thumping, like someone kicking and then the shrill hiss of nails scraping against wood.

He couldn't hit **End** , he wanted to but something was familiar about the voice and he had never felt sick when hearing shit like this but…something ached and he listened more. He tensed when he heard soft pats and faint hiccups of a child's sob before he heard flesh brush over the speakers.

"Hello," questioned a little girls squeaky, phlegm riddled voice.

Dean swallowed. "Hi there," he felt awkward but his heart was racing. "Uh. . ."

The little girl hiccuped. "M – Mommy is fighting," she paused to scream and yell out _Mommy_ before the line went dead.


	2. Chapter 2

_**No reviews yet - of course, I didn't expect like this outpouring of reviews on the first chapter - but I had instant fav's and follows. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I do with writing it. Please follow me on AO3 for an edgier version of this and my deleted story Flushed (now Dark Water on AO3).**_

* * *

"Dean, do you really think this is a good idea?"

Dean glanced back at Sam, who was a bit skeptical of the whole ordeal. Dean didn't care, he just snorted and dropped the shotgun into the trunk of Baby, slamming her trunk closed with a little too much force; he couldn't help it, he had been on edge for the past half hour and it didn't seem to be letting up.

The screaming was stuck in his head, the woman and the little girl, and Dean couldn't just pretend it hadn't happened.

"Sayin' we should just ignore it," Dean muttered gruffly.

Sam sighed and shook his head, looking over the roof of the Impala while Dean palmed his keys. "I'm saying we trace the call and contact the police."

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes creased in several emotions. "Middle of a fight, some woman calls _me_. She didn't call the cops, she wanted _me_. Now," he opened the driver's door, eyebrow arched. "You can either stay here or come with me, doesn't matter."

Sam pursed his lips lightly. "Yeah it does," he sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Let's go then," Dean nodded once and climbed into the driver's seat, starting the Impala as Sam shut his door.

Dean understood his hesitation, he understood the apprehensive nature of his discomfort.

But between the violent nature of the call and the fact that she was screaming his name: he _had_ to find whoever was on the other side of that phone.

He was concerned about the young girl too, the one that screamed _mommy_.

The woman sounded familiar and he couldn't shake her.

Sam was thinking logically, Dean always dove in head first. Maybe it was a bad idea and maybe they would regret this, but he wouldn't know that until he figured out what the hell was going on.

* * *

"Sure this is it?"

Dean nodded slowly, hand curled back around the handle of the pistol tucked in the back of his jeans.

His eyes scanned over the seemingly normal house, eyes narrowing at the broken window on the front porch and the wooden chair on its side. Sam noticed it as well, nostrils flaring and his own hand moving to his gun. Maybe a gun was a little over kill, but a monster could be in there; caution is key.

Dean grasped the door handle and nudged it open, boots cracking against the shards of glass on the old wood. Inside, the place was trashed. A table in the entrance hall was knocked over, one of the legs splintered off and lying nearby.

Dean looked to his right, into what was most definitely a battle arena.

There was broken glass and a bloody handprint streaking the floor, a blood stain on the area rug. The couch was shredded and knocked over on top of the coffee table. Sam entered behind him, swallowing thickly at the sight, side stepping the blood on the rug.

A picture frame was broken in the corner, a small hole in the wall indicating that it had been thrown. Dean bent down to pick it up, recognition clicking in the back of his head as he peered down at the familiar dark curls framing a sharp face, dark eyes matching the little girl she was hugging tight. He sighed and set the picture back down, looking around the room with a skeptical face. Sam looked over at him, just as perplexed.

Until they heard a soft groan.

They raised their weapons and shared a glance, Dean leading without Sam even being able to protest. They passed back into the entrance hall, Dean looking to the staircase.

After a pause, they moved upstairs and started ducking in and out of rooms, seeing the bathroom trashed, blood on the threshold.

He moved closer towards the only unopened door in the hallway, seeing the scratches on the floor; that was what he had heard. They ran from a room decorated in pink butterflies to the closed door. Dean firmed his jaw and raised his gun, inching towards the door where another soft groan came from.

Dean's stomach flipped when he tried to kick open the door. It inched open but bumped against something on the other side. Sam approached slowly, arching an eyebrow until Dean nodded. He tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and got ready.

There was a dresser in the way so it took some work, but when they took in the sight inside, they realized it was a barricade.

Bloody hand prints had cupped the edge of the dresser from the woman who pushed it there. She was crumpled in the corner, right eye swollen shut and hair bloody, matted from where a fist had tangled in the struggle. She had been wearing a dress but it was shredded on her hip and blood was staining the edges where it had been ripped, possibly with a knife.

She groaned and rocked her head, blood staining her busted lip and pale skin.

"Seph," Dean whispered in a haste, shoving his gun into his jeans and stomping to her side.

Sam looked around before doing the same with his weapon, watching Dean cradle this Seph to his chest, whispering into her hair. "Dean," Sam muttered before pausing. "Who is this woman?"

Dean looked up to his brother, like he was almost afraid to tell him and then he looked down at Seph, her busted up face. "We had a thing."

Sam paused, raising an eyebrow. "You came rushing here because of a _fling_? I doubt it."

Dean glared at Sam then froze, his eyes growing wide as he realized something. "The little girl," he looked down at Seph. "Seph, where's your daughter?"

That stirred the woman and she began to fidget in his arms, groaning as she did so. She was in immense pain, they could see that, but she still struggled. "Megan," it sounded funny through puffy lips. "I gotta find her…"

Dean pulled her a little tighter against him and she let out a strangled cry of pain. "We'll find her, Seph. Where did you see her last?"

She cried out, bloody hands curling in his shirt. "He – he said he was going after her and I – she – "

"Calm down," Sam cut in, crouching down in front of her; her one good eye was barely a slit. "Take a deep breath, try and think."

She froze, ridged in Dean's arms. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and then she relaxed, as if in relief. "The closet," she whispered. "She's…she's in the closet in her room. I told her not to come out until you got here."

Dean almost chuckled, she still had no doubt that he would come for her when she called. He licked his lips and adjusted his seating position, for the comfort of both of them.

"Well, let's get her out of there then," he murmured.

Seph nodded weakly, slumping against Dean. "Help me to my feet."

Dean nodded and gestured for Sam to back up, which he did. Dean kept a firm face on the way he handled the bruised and battered woman, Sam almost suggested the hospital but the longer he stared, she was mostly just bloody from her lip and the shallow lacerations on her right hip; whoever had did this favored that side of her.

Dean helped her out of the bedroom and let her lead him towards the pink bedroom. They walked slowly towards the closet while Sam kept guard by the door. Dean tried the door handle and heard something move inside. He gave Seph and expectant glance and she cleared her throat a little.

It sounded like it hurt, like she was trying to choke down glass. "Megan, sweetheart," she whispered, knocking on the closet door. "Please open the door."

There wasn't a single moment of hesitation from the opposite side of the door. The lock clicked loudly – or maybe it only sounded louder because of the anticipation making the air tense – and the door swung open, revealing a blur of dirty blonde hair and a Tinkerbell nightgown.

Seph visibly stifled a cry of pain as the little girl crashed into her arms but swallowed and smiled weakly, rubbing Megan's back. Sam inhaled sharply and Dean grit his jaw when the little girl looked up, a small cut over her forehead revealing she had been attacked too.

"Is he gone," she whispers, apparently still fearful.

Seph nodded. "Yes sweetie," she looked over at Dean. "This is Dean…he's gonna help us."

Megan furrowed her brow and looked up at Dean with wide eyes, then to Sam.

Distrust, her eyes were so full of it, it made Sam's tongue bitter the longer she stared at him. She looked back up at her mother and took a step back, suddenly very shy. Kids were weird that way, though, so Sam just ignored it and looked over at Dean, trying to gauge where to go from here.

Dean looked over at him, lips quirked and then he sighed. "Guys ready to split before someone notices the house is a wreck," Dean shifted his weight, Seph leaning heavily on him.

"Yes," Seph breathed against his throat.

Megan lit then, on the verge of tears but not for what Sam or Dean expected. "I gotta get Sissy!"

Before anyone had a chance to protest, the little girl took off out into the hallway, her small steps fading. Sam raised an eyebrow and Seph chuckled, then began to hack violently. Dean jumped a little and eased her up into his arms, bridal style, and jerked his chin at the door. Sam nodded and jogged over, slipping out to find Megan.

Dean waited a beat and stepped out into the hallway, carrying Seph as he ducked around the rooms upstairs, trying to find where Megan went to. He stumbled back as she popped out of what looked like a linen closet, a giant, pink, stuffed rabbit clenched in her arms.

"I found Sissy," she stated the obvious.

Dean's lips twitched and he nodded. "I see that," he cocked his head a little towards Sam, who was hovering behind him. "Why don't you take Sam there's hand and we're gonna go for a little drive."

Her eyes creased in mute fear. "Mommy is coming, right," her arms tightened around her stuffed rabbit.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yes, darling. You're both gonna come stay with me and my brother for a while. It'll be fun."

Megan seemed hesitant but then held out a hand to Sam, who gave Dean a skeptical look before he wrapped his hand around the little girl's.

* * *

 _"Call me, and I'll come runnin'. I gotta get to my brother first."_

* * *

Seph's eyes shot open as the Impala hit a small bump in the road.

Her heart was racing in her chest, but her first thought was Megan and where she was, if she was okay. She tried to sit up fast, get off that window, but a large hand flattened on her chest and pushed her back into the seat she was in. Seph's heart leapt into her throat and she jerked her head to the left, then regretted it when pain thrummed in her skull and made it feel like she had cotton stuffed in her ears.

"Calm down, Seph," Dean rumbled, eyes on the road.

She instantly relaxed, slumping into the seat with a heavy sigh of relief. Every part of her ached and the parts that didn't felt warm to the touch, she was running a fever.

The inside of the Impala smelt like she remembered it: old cologne and a faint hint of food she couldn't identify. She remembers the squeak of leather seats and the way she giggled when he gave her that lop sided grin of his.

She peers over at him through her still – matted hair, shuddering for more reasons than one. His face had been so smooth and curved without worry, _young_. Now it was aged with pain and a familiar look, like he had seen some serious shit. He was no longer baby faced, he was rugged and yet still handsome, though she did feel like coddling him.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered. "I…I couldn't call the cops. I just couldn't, it only makes him angrier," she cringed.

Dean's brow furrowed. "You had him arrested before?"

Seph shook her head, her tongue tasting metallic against her bottom lip. "No, but I've tried...it didn't end well."

Silence lapsed between the two of them again and Seph sighed loudly, twisting to look in the backseat. She saw Megan curled up in the backseat behind Dean, wrapped around Sissy like a life preserver. Seph let her eyes flicker to Sam - who was seared to Megan's right and very much asleep - before settling back in her seat, staring forward at the highway stretched out in front of them.

"So, that's Sam," she questioned, looking over at Dean, needing a subject change.

He smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah," his brow furrowed and he looked over at her, locking eyes. "Seph…what the Hell happened?"

She shrugged and broke contact, which made him feel a little out of place. "After you disappeared I met Mike, two years afterwards. It was nice at first, he had a bit of a temper but he never did anything out of ordinary for someone when they're mad. He yelled and threatened but he never did anything he promised. Things progressed," she choked audibly and Dean felt something tighten in his chest. "I came home from work at the bar and…I noticed his car in the driveway. He wasn't supposed to get home until nine and I found it weird. Came in and…" a tear slipped over her cheek. "He had Megan on the couch and filth playing on the television…"

Dean reached over and placed a hand on her thigh, making her jump. "Don't," was all he said.

She nodded a little. "I couldn't call the cops," she repeated. "I won't have my baby caught in the system like I was. They look for any excuse to take a cute kid like her away from her momma."

Dean nodded. "It's over, I'm here and I got ya and you don't have to worry about that, okay?"

Seph nodded shakily. "I can't even begin to repay you, Dean."

He chuckled. "We'll figure something out."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Okay, let me start with a big I AM SO SORRY! I could have sworn I updated this and then I saw I didn't - I feel terrible. Thank you to those that have stuck around and waited for this ugh. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, I swear.**_

 _ **And yes, there is an actual plot to this and its not just some fluffy, domestic stuff - all though, that is a big part of the plot. I hope you all stick around to see the end!**_

* * *

Sam didn't spend nearly as much time in the kitchen as Dean did, and of course the night he chooses to come in there for a snack, he finds Seph crying on the counter.

He hesitates in the doorway, watching her tug her button down tighter around her body and he's more awkward than he has ever been.

"Uh..." He manages and she stiffens, scrubbing her tears into her skin. "Sorry, I just..."

"No, no, no," she shakes her head fiercely and drops from the counter. "I just...I'm sorry. I just couldn't stop..."

Sam shakes his eyes, flickering around the bruises splotching her face, the gauze on the side of her neck. She had every reason to cry. He could tell she still hurt as she walked and Dean had mentioned something about her catching the sick fuck that beat her about to rape her daughter; she'd also said she had the feeling he had succeeded in doing just that before, that it wasn't the first time and she had just managed to stop him this time. She had just as much grief as the brothers now, it was hard to find their kin.

"Anything I can do," Sam asked when she finished wiping her tears away.

Seph shook her head. "Not really," she sniffed. "Maybe send me back to the past to fix this mess."

He chuckled softly and leaned on the counter while she angrily brushed back her hair. "I wish I could do the same sometimes," he murmurs. "But there's no time machine...we just have to make the best of you being free from there."

"He's a Hunter, Sam," she admitted and awkwardly embraced him. "He's a Hunter and I'm scared. That's why he never got arrested."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam managed to wiggle out of her arms and held her at arms length. "He's a Hunter? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because Hunters protect Hunters," she said, looking conflicted.

"Not when it comes to something like this," Sam murmured.

Seph shook her head. " _Even_ with something like this," she muttered. "Why do you think no one's ever reported it or tried to do anything?"

Sam drew his lips into a thin line as he pulled her closer, mindful of her battered body. "Well we're not like those guys," he said softly.

She smiles sweetly at him and nods, wiping away another stray tear. "I know that," she whispered.

Sam rubbed her shoulder gently. "You called Dean after all this time," he paused. "You two must have been pretty close."

That brought genuine adoration and happiness in her eyes. "Yeah," she looked like she was remembering something. "He was...so sweet to me. Your brother really is a good man. Under the pain-in-the-ass exterior."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah he gets that a lot."

Seph nodded again. "Megan trusts him, that's what matters," she said and adjusted her shirt some.

Sam chuckled softly. "I've never seen Dean take to a kid so quickly," he muttered. "It's kinda cute to be honest."

Seph chuckled softly. "She really does adore him. And you," Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "She thinks you're a giant. I have yet to correct her."

Sam chuckled. "Its gonna be kind of weird having a kid around here," he shook his head as he walked over to the fridge. "Want anything?"

"I already ate," she swallowed thickly. "We're not gonna be in the way, huh?"

Sam shook his head. "Not at all," he said and opened the fridge to make himself a sandwich.

"You're sure," Seph asked, voice uncertain.

"I'm sure," Sam assured her, giving her a lopsided grin.

* * *

Seph looked up from the book she'd been reading - Demonic Possessions and How to Prevent Them, color her curious - as Megan sprinted into the room. It was with a slap of shows and display of awkward teeth, her eyes lit like the fire settled in front of Seph.

"Momma," she squealed. "Look at what Dean got me!"

Megan pulled a bulging shopping bag onto the couch and yanked it open with enthusiasm only kids can have; Dean stood awkwardly behind her, a weird kind of smile on his face. Seph peered down into the bag, tucking her thumb into her place in the book, seeing a bounty of clothes in pink and green - Megan's current favorite colors.

She glanced up at Dean,a laugh threatening to break free at the very idea. "You took her clothes shopping," Seph asked.

Dean shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Seeing as she's been running around in a Tinkerbell nightgown..." She didn't miss the small smile he was holding back when Megan held a pink dress up to her chest and twirled. "And she insisted...kid already has a shopping problem."

Seph chuckled and cocked her head slightly at Dean, grinning when he gave an alarmed noise as Megan crashed into his legs. It was adorable. Megan was so much different than when they had been with that asshole. She was bubbly and excited and...Seph had always wanted to see her daughter like this.

Seph set her book down on the table in front of her and stood, approaching Dean. He was too busy sputtering at Megan to notice her approaching, only realizing she was there when she kissed his cheek. He looked down at her, slightly alarmed and flushed; how wonderful it was that she could make Dean Winchester blush. Or maybe that had something to do with Megan still clinging to him.

Seph grinned up at him and kissed his other cheek, making his flush darken. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, faintly hearing Megan babbling about her new clothes in the background; he was mostly focused on Seph and her bruises.

"Thank you," she murmured and adjusted the collar of his shirt subconsciously.

"It's really no problem, Seph," Dean muttered. "She's an amazing kid."

Megan let go of Dean's legs, making him wobble with the force of her pulling away and hauled the shopping bag off the couch to start making her way to the bedroom.

"Ah uh, Megan," Seph chided before she could get far. "What do you say to Dean?"

Megan turned half-way around, eyes wide as she visibly contemplated something. "Thank you Daddy," she squealed and dashed off towards the bedroom.

Dean looked at , brow furrowed. "Did I hear her right," he asked.

Seph pursed her lips and then shrugged. "I didn't catch it right," she shook her head and picked up her book. "So, where's Sam? I've been looking for him all morning."

Dean followed her as she strode to the bookshelves, sliding her book into its proper place. "Said he was following up on some lead in Murphy. He won't be back for a few days."

Seph froze, furrowing her brow and looking up at Dean. "He went _alone_ ," Dean nodded. "To North Carolina," Dean nodded. "He say anything else?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope, he just said he was headed up there for a lead on this case he was on the fence about. Or maybe he said something to do with an old college buddy...I didn't pick. He looked pretty keyed up. He needs help, he'll call."

Seph nodded even as an uneasy feeling pooled in her gut. "You hungry," she asked as she strolled towards the kitchen; she needed to distract herself and food always helped.

"I could go for a sandwich," Dean said, following after her.

Seph smiled softly at him. "Ham or turkey," she questioned.

Dean grinned. "Both," he chirped.

Seph shook her head. "You're such a glutton."

He sighed and leaned onto the counter, rubbing his face thoroughly. "Tell me something I don't know," he groaned.

She hummed and opened the fridge, pulling out what she needed with a skeptical look on her face. "Did you get Megan something to eat," she looked over at him.

He shook his head and stood straight, tucking his hands in the back of his jeans. "She said she wasn't hungry."

Seph tsked, laying out everything on the counter. "Well she's a dirty little liar."

They fell into a semi-comfortable silence and Seph worked peacefully. She hadn't been so domestic in years, it fell good to actually want to do something for a man and not be disgusted with him or herself, be afraid if she refused...

"Here," she said after a few moments, handing him a plate with a turkey and cream cheese sandwich on it. "Would you go give this to Megan please?"

Dean nodded, though he looked at the sandwich skeptically. "Is that cream cheese," he asked.

Seph nodded. "Megan is on a cream cheese kick," she raises her hands in defeat before beginning another sandwich. "Don't ask me why."

Dean raised an eyebrow but walked away to go give Megan her sandwich; he'd eaten stranger thing, honestly. Seph smiled as she heard the chorus of _thank you's_ from the other room and sealed up the bag of turkey, listening to Dean's heavy foot falls approaching.

"Your kid is weird," Dean mumbled as he walked back into the kitchen. "She's running around in like...three dresses. And she made me call her rabbit beautiful."

Seph chuckles. "Haven't had to deal with kids a lot huh," she moved back to the fridge, narrowing her eyes at the lack of drinks aside from beer and soda.

Dean hesitated then sighed. "Had a kid once," she jerked back to give him an incredulous look. "I know, weird. His name was Ben."

Seph looked at him, eyes soft. "What happened?"

Dean shrugged. "Couldn't hack the domestic life," he paused. "It wasn't for me ya know?"

She nodded and went back to making his sandwich. She watched him when he didn't watch her, seeing his brow deeply furrowed in concentration on whatever was going on in his head. She didn't want to ask, but she also desperately wanted to. She hadn't seen him in too long, she wanted to babble to him and never stop, she wanted to talk and chirp and she wanted to tell him mostly how much she missed him.

"Here," Seph said, sliding the plate across the counter towards him. "You're good with Megan though," Seph paused. "She likes you."

Dean quirked his lips in the corner, chewing extra slow as she hummed, putting away everything after she had finished making her own sandwich. After a moment, she tossed him a smile, which made him have to pause.

"I didn't think you even remembered my name," he said after swallowing his bite; it was a small murmur, but she heard it.

Seph sighed, leaning onto her crossed arms against the counter top. "Dean, not a day went by that I didn't think about you, especially after Megan was born. I wanted something safe for my daughter and...you were my first thought. But I didn't want to bother you with my mess."

Dean frowned at that. "You wouldn't have been a bother Seph, you know that," he murmured.

Seph shook her head. "I _don't_ know that, Dean," she paused. "I figured that after we split you'd want nothing to do with me."

Dean shook his head and set his sandwich down before walking slowly around the counter to reach her. She flinched as he cupped her cheek in his hand, but allowed the touch. So gentle and warm, comforting. She wouldn't say the cliché that she had only been used to a cruel touch because that would be a lie.

She'd known the loving touch of her daughter, the warm embraces of her grandmother, the gentle nibble of a puppy taken from them too soon. She'd known a wide array of touches between the cruel strikes and the deep cuts.

But she had forgotten the unique caress of Dean Winchester.

"Just because we'd split, didn't mean I wouldn't have helped you Seph," he stroked his thumb over her cheek in experiment. "I'm not a _complete_ jerk."

She leaned into his palm subconsciously. "Still a jerk," she mumbled. "I remember seeing you that night...you tried three other girls in front of me before tricking me into bed with you."

He chuckled softly. "I don't think I necessarily tricked you," he winked. "You seemed plenty willing."

She pushed him away, her shove weak and he just chuckled again, staying rooted to his spot. "I just...like you said, the family thing wasn't your thing," she shrugged. "So I figured just...let you go."

* * *

Seph winced when Dean's rough fingers brushed over the edge of a particularly nasty scrape on her chest.

"Sorry," he murmured, pressing against the tape one final time. "You're gonna need to clean that in the shower so be careful, let it air out for awhile."

Seph nodded softly, adjusting her shirt and getting ready to press play on the television before a squeaky voice interrupted.

"I'm ready for bed," Megan stated, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest.

"Is that so," Seph asked and Megan nodded vigorously. "You brushed your teeth," another nod. "Flossed," one more nod.

Seph smiled and got up to give her daughter a hug. She swept up the small child in a chorus of giggles, Dean watching them with a soft smile on his lips; this felt weird.

"Momma," Megan started. "Can Dean tuck me in?"

Seph cocked her head, hair spilling over her shoulder. She looked back at Dean who had an eyebrow raised in just as much confusion and curiosity as her. A vile thought flickered through Seph's mind but she mentally slapped herself and smiled down at her daughter; Dean was nothing like him.

"Of course sweetheart," she looked back over at Dean. "I can actually get a shower in peace. Do you mind, Dean?"

He hesitated and pulled his arms down from the back of the couch. "Uh, I guess not. Sure," he smiled a little. "C'mon kid."

Megan gave him a toothy grin and dashed off towards the bedroom. "Thanks," Seph said, running a hand through her hair

Dean nodded, though he still looked thoroughly bewildered. It was kind of cute how flustered he was about this. Was he afraid he would like, make her spontaneously combust or something? She felt funny thinking that he looked like a new dad.

"Relax," she teased. "You'll be fine."

He shook his head and gave her an awkward smile before retreating to the bedroom. Megan was seated in the middle of her and Seph's new bed, squeezing her bunny tight to her chest; Dean and Sam had, had to drag it out of a back room after cleaning this ome. The walls were still bare but Seph had mentioned getting something lively to decorate the room with. She hadn't spoke much about getting comfortable here, but Megan seemed plenty happy.

"Sure you got everything done before I tuck you in," Dean questioned, holding up the blanket for her to wiggle under.

She nodded vigorously, staring up at him with those wide eyes and he was reminded of Sam when he was little. "Can I call you daddy," she questioned with confidence.

Dean froze with uncertainty, staring down at the little girl while she waited patiently for his answer; he could faintly hear Seph singing Coward Of the County and certainly felt like one.

"Uh," he floundered. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Cause you act like a Daddy should," she replied; she gave him a look that said _'seriously? You didn't know that?'._

Dean almost chuckled. "And how should Daddies act," he questioned.

Megan looked him for a moment, lips pursed. "They're supposed to protect their family," she paused. "You protected me and Momma. You and Sammy."

He nodded. "That's true," he paused. "Seems like your dad was pretty mean to you and momma, huh?"

Her nose scrunched up and she shook her head fiercely. "Mike wasn' ma daddy," she chirped, resting her head on her left shoulder. "He was mean..."

"Who _is_ your daddy then," it was so weird saying daddy.

He'd only ever said dad or father.

Megan shrugged and squished her rabbits ears between her hands. "Momma never talks about him, but she told me he disappeared when I was borned."

Dean swallowed, feeling his blood rushing to his ears. "Well I'm sure whoever he was that he would've been good to you and your mom."

Megan nodded slowly and slid down further under the blanket. "So, can I call you Daddy," she asked again.

Dean nodded, running a hand through her hair experimentally; it felt strange. "Yeah, kiddo...I guess you can."


End file.
